


Double Booked

by britishshoe



Category: The Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishshoe/pseuds/britishshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>going with like. 1975 pete here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Booked

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a steak to my room please. Well done. Okay. 45 minutes? No, no, that's fine. Thank you," the woman was absentmindedly curling the cord around her finger as she talked into the well used hotel phone. She connected the handset with the receiver and decided to take a shower to kill some of the time between her and her dinner. The white shag carpeting ran between her toes as she walked into the bathroom and traded that feeling for the one of cool linoleum underfoot. In a moment, water was pounding her shoulders as she hummed out some obscure tune. The steam built around her body and flooded the room in a great cloud as the hot water ran lines through the soap that she had coated herself with. After she figured nearly ten minutes had passed, and didn't much feel like standing around as her skin went pruny, she got out and put on a robe, wandering back into the main part of her hotel room. Before she could think of how to spend her next 35 minutes, her body collided with something and she fell to the floor. The momentary cloud of confusion was cleared by a voice from above her.

"I didn't order room service," the words came with a chuckle and the feeling of hands gripping at her forearms and hefting her up. "What are you doing in my hotel room?"

" _Your_ hotel room?" She faced the visage in front of her and saw a pale man with large features and dark hair. He looked strangely familiar and she tried to process his piercing blue eyes before he interrupted her.

"Yes, my hotel room. If you're some crazed fan I respect your gall, but-"

" _Fan? Crazed?_ Who the hell are you, buddy?" the exchange was annoying if not just plain offensive and she felt an edge of anger as her body tensed under the silk material of her bathrobe.

_Oh, great, half naked with some weirdo accusing ME of being crazy._

"Oh, come off it! You don't recognize me?" He was nearly shouting at the thought of going unrecognized by this complete stranger. "You're alone in a room with Pete Townshend and you don't recognize him?!" The face immediately clicked in her mind and she felt like all of the blood was being drained from her body. She suddenly felt very self conscious about the entire situation, but didn't want to fawn over the musician who had just accused her of being some sort of lunatic.

"Wow, Mr. Townshend, you're just as eloquent and charming as they all say! How haven't I gotten your autograph yet?!"

"You know what, I don't have time for this, I'm calling hotel security," he traipsed across the room to the handset that had been used less than fifteen minutes ago, and dialed the front desk. "Yes, hello, there's some random woman in my hotel room. Pete Townshend, room 300. Yes- what? You can't be serious. No, no, we'll figure this out between us, no need to strain yourselves to fuck up anything else!" He slammed the phone back on the table, a high ding reverberating from the receiver for the moment it took him to whip his head back around to face the random woman in question. "Well it appears this room was double booked."

"So I guess you'll just have to go to another room," she responded, her arms crossed awkwardly over her chest. 

"The entire hotel is booked in fact, so that isn't an option."

"Well, there's gotta be another hotel in this city, go there."

"There's only this one and a- a hotel I can't go to."

"Oh, you banned there?" The question came out knowingly, and with no good intentions. She had heard the rumors and the stories, everyone buys a tabloid every now and again. Pete made glaring eye contact with her and she felt naked. There was something very menacing about her new roommate, but she didn't back down. "What'd ya do? Glare so hard at the manager you burnt a hole in his face?"

There was only a moment and one of Pete's long strides between this banter and the moment he pushed her against the wall. He was tense, and she thought he was gonna hit her for a moment, but she tried not to let fear show on her face.

"Aren't you just a ray of fucking sunshine!" He growled through his teeth, his jaw clenched. His body leaned back as his legs and hips pressed forward, shoulder width apart, hands pressing forward on either side of her head. She was trapped there by his upper legs and couldn't even entertain the thought of squirming out of the situation.

"You shouldn't throw stones from your glass house," she argued but realized this wasn't the route that was being taken as Pete pushed his whole body forward into her. His mouth quickly found hers and he grabbed her by the nape of her neck, roughly pushing their lips together. Her jaw went slack as his tongue began to wander in, and he pressed into her firmly, his whole body nearly crushing her. This went on for a few blurry moments until she grabbed him firmly by his scraggly hair and pulled him back, inciting a yelp.

"I can't fuckin' breathe, Lothario," she managed hurriedly. His expression was still firm but not with anger. She recognized his new aura as pure lust.

"Then lead me to our shared bedroom, and now." She began cautiously walking to a door on the opposite side of the room and he followed, picking her up over his shoulder along the way. He acted like there was no time to waste, tossing her back haphazardly on the mattress.

"Pretty strong for a skinny guy," she mumbled, propping herself up on her elbows. Pete ignored the comment as he peeled his shirt over his head, his pale skin nearly reflecting the room's lights. His muscles strained at the surface, his lean body spanning forever in more than skin and bone. He turned and ushered with his hand for her to stand in front of him. With one hand he untied her robe and helped her shrug it off, taking her all in. He was still in his jeans, but barely, the strain becoming more and more noticeable.

"Bed," he stated, hardly above a whisper. His belt slowly came off as she leaned back against the pillows, watching every fluid motion. He crawled up over her without removing his jeans. His breath was hot as he lingered over her neck, listening for every little moan. His mouth toured her upper body, lingering with every movement. His left arm snaked around and under her body, lifting her chest up to meet him. Every movement was long and slow and incredibly tactile, leaving her aching.

"Pete..." she groaned, begging for friction. In response, his right hand slid down between her thighs, making painfully slow circles on her clit. Her back arched into him as he teased her with his hands, raising his head to make deep eye contact. After a moment he stopped and stood up, much to her dismay. She let out a soft whimper in protest.

"Oh, quiet, you. Don't be so eager, now," he had a tormenting tone and a glint in his eye as he slowly undid the button and zipper on his jeans, slipping them from his slim hips. The sudden realization that he was wearing nothing under them sent a wave of lust through his audience, and she couldn't stifle a light gasp. "Like what you see?" He taunted as he slowly walked over to her, grabbing her by the wrist. She was pulled to her knees and she realized he now held his belt in his hand, and was planning to make use of it. He held her arms behind her back and bound them with the thick leather strip, and took his place on the bed. he grabbed her hips and helped her straddle him, before adjusting himself at her entrance and pulling her down hard. She had no time to adjust and let out a yelp, the invasion shocking through her body. Pete held her hips steady as she got used to using her leg strength to work herself up and down on his cock. She was soon bouncing steadily up and down, arms back and chest exposed. Pete let out soft groans as she slowed down the pace and rocked back and forth, in a silent form of control. She watched every slow movement of his chest rising and falling as he bit his lip and worked his own hips upward subtly. As she felt her orgasm near, Pete stopped her and pulled away. She whined at the loss, but found her arms free again as he lingered behind her.

"Hands and knees," he growled in her ear, and she quickly obliged. Seconds later, he was sliding into her and she sighed in relief at the welcomed sensation. He cautiously found his pace, but didn't move slowly for long, soon roughly thrusting into her. He had it timed perfectly, hitting her g spot with every harsh swing of his hips. She moaned out incoherent curses, shivering as her climax came, hard and staggering, her cum dripping onto him. Pete pulled out and she was on her knees immediately, willing to taste herself on him. There was an almost evil smirk on his face as he saw her that way, but his moment was cut short as she grabbed the base of his cock with her hand and positioned her mouth at the tip. He whimpered as she lightly flicked her tongue across it, taking her time with the encounter. She slid his full length into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and maneuvering her tongue around him. Pete gripped her hair and worked her head up and down his length, nearly choking her. His breath became uneven as he bucked his hips up, gagging her. This only brought him closer to the edge and in a few more steady thrusts he was coming down her throat. He tried to catch his ragged breath as she separated from him, leaving him to shiver from the loss of warmth. The mattress welcomed him as he landed roughly on his back and looked at the ceiling. After a moment he cast his gaze to the woman beside him, and had a sudden and almost embarrassing realization of the situation at hand.

"So now that we're acquainted and all, what is your name?" The question sounded strangely innocent, a quick change from the moments before, and he twiddled his thumbs avoiding eye contact. Before any response came, there was a knock on the door. She looked toward it and stood up, sliding her robe back on.

"That would be my dinner," she answered, and sauntered out of the bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i do not own pete or his likeness, etc. etc.  
> thanks for reading.


End file.
